Spiral Down
by The Less You See
Summary: A diary. A frickin' diary. First they send me to a therapist because of what they define as self-destructive behaviour. Next, the therapist has me write a diary. What the hell is this world coming too? ON HIATUS
1. A diary, oh wait, journal

WARNINGS: SERIOUS LANGUAGE AND MILD VIOLENCE

Every day was the same damn thing.

Get up, tennis practice, go to class, tennis practice, lunch, tennis practice, more school, tennis practice, dinner and even more tennis fucking practice. I know that Yuki-buchou wants me to go to all of them and as doubles 2 player, I absolutely had to be there.

But I really, really, really didn't want to be there.

What I really wanted to be doing was going to the classical music club and lay my soul bare with a violin.

Okay, what the fuck? Did you actually believe that? Damn, you're an idiot.

Anyway, I'm Niou Masaharu, trickster extraordinaire. One day, I got into the middle of this huge gang fight and I mean huge. There were more guys there with knives than I've seen at a butcher's convention.

Not that I've ever been to one though.

I think that that's the best place for this shit to begin, (which I'm only writing this shitty diary, well journal as my therapist prefers to call it)

Okay, normal September day. I was blowin' off some of my classes (the boring ones like lit and English) and about to head back to school so Sanada and Yuki don't assign me laps until the end of time. When I was walking back past the playground, I saw two or three little kids.

Well, it was a playground and I saw some ladies walking around so I assumed that the kids were fine and safe. Then, a few teenagers (like eighteen and nineteen year olds) walk up to the children and proceed to begin to beat the shit out of them. Normally I wouldn't pay any attention to this, but I'm not a completely heartless bastard.

I walked up to the largest of the douches and tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned around and asked, "The hell do you want?"

My answer was punching him square in the nose.

"Who's next?" I asked, putting on my best devil may care grin. All of the other six came at me at once and it took all I had to yell to the brats to get the hell away. Now, I'm normally a very good street-fighter, but I'm not normally going up against guns, knives, and baseball bats. Most of the time it's just one of the three and I can handle myself real well. Having the near impossible combination of all three, well, let's just say the fight got real ugly, but not for the jackasses beating up on little kids.

Next thing I know, Yagyuu crouched down above me looking incredibly worried about somethin'. "Hey Yeahgyuu~." I said distortin' his name as usual. Before he could reply, I tried to sit myself up and pain ripped through my abdomen.

"Do not try to do that again, alright Niou?" He said quietly, his question bein' more of an order but I really wasn't in the mood to fight about him orderin' me around.

"The hell happened, Hiroshi?" I asked as more pain shot up my spine and I nearly had a fucking seizure.

"I was about to ask you the same thing." He said, "You never showed up for practice, so about fifty minutes in, Sanada asked me to come looking for you. After about ten minutes, I happened across the park and saw you lying on the ground in a pool of your own blood. God, Haru, you scared the shit out of me."

I looked up at him at amazement.

"What?" He asked, suddenly very subconscious.

"You just fuckin' swore." I said in wonder, "You never swear unless you're me."

"Well, let's see. My best friend got himself shot up, sliced up and beat up and the only thing you can concentrate on is my use of profanity?" He asked exasperated.

"Wait. Back up. You said shot?" I asked, my voice going hoarse at the statement. That must've been what was hurting like a motherfucker in my stomach.

"Yeah. I have called an ambulance and the team and their both on their way right now." He said voice laced with pain.

"Are you hurt, Hiroshi?" I asked stupidly, wonderin' about the pain.

"No, of course not." He answered automatically.

"Then why do you sound like you're in pain?" I asked suspicious.

"I already told you. My best friend got his ass kicked. Do you not think that that would hurt me too?" He said incredulously. I could honestly tell him that I'd never even thought about it. I've never really had actual friends before and the feelins' associated with it were really new and really damn scary.

"Really?" I asked disbelieving.

"Really." He confirmed, just as I heard a bunch of people yell out, "Niou! Yagyuu!"

Yagyuu turned to confirm that the team just showed up and he nodded slightly to show they were here.

"Niou, are you alright?" Yuki said as he dropped to his knees beside me.

"Course Yuki. Why wouldn't I be?" I asked. Right after I got that out, a fit of coughing began to rack my body.

"Niou, come on." Hiroshi said, "It'll be okay. I can hear the sirens getting closer now."

And I could too. Just barely though, over the sound of my coughing. I could see Yuki's lips moving during the fit, but I couldn't hear a damn thing for some reason. Black began to dance at the edges of my vision and Yuki and Hiroshi begin to yell at someone that I couldn't see. An oxygen mask appeared out of nowhere and was placed over my mouth.

Seconds later, I blacked out completely.

When I woke up, I ended up staring at a completely white ceiling, in a room with white walls and all that jazz.

'Oh fuck, a hospital.' was my first thought.

Original right?

I thought so. Anyway, as soon as I got the strength to turn my head (which took more than a few minutes by the way) I saw Yagyuu sitting by my bed, asleep in one of those real fuckin' uncomfortable hospital chairs.

I, like the oh so amazing genius that I am, then tried to sit up.

Not my best idea. I admit that.

So, I started coughing and Yagyuu shot up awake immediately.

"Haru!" He exclaimed as he reached around and slammed the nurse call button like twenty times.

I tried to respond back, but that just brought on even more coughing. Twenty seconds later (or maybe longer- oh well, I blame the fuckin' vicodin) the entire nursing staff must've all crashed into my room at once.

Took a few minutes, but they were finally able to help me stop my coughing. Half an hour later, I think they were finally done takin' all my vitals and Yagyuu finally came back to sit beside me.

"How long was I out, Yeahgyuu~?" I asked, distortin' his name like I felt I hadn't in a long time.

"It's been about three weeks, Haru." He answered quietly.

As much as I hate to admit this (and I wouldn't if anyone else but would be reading this) but this info really threw me for a loop.

I mean three fucking weeks.

How the hell does that even happen?

"There's something else, Haru." Yagyuu said quietly, "The doctors found something when they were performing the surgery on your abdomen."

"Well, what was it Yagyuu? Spit it out." I said vehemently, not really wanting to hear anything else, good or bad at the moment. Personally, I still couldn't get over the fact I was in a god damn coma for three frickin' weeks.

"The doctors found…" He said, his voice cracking on the last word.

"Wait! What?" I asked, and according to Yagyuu, I turned just as white as my hair.

The only thing I could think was…

Holy shit.

- Sincerely,

_Niou Masaharu_

(P.S. Huh, my therapist should be pretty damn happy. I actually signed out of the damn diary, ok here's my normal signature. Pretty good joke. Poor therapist. Haha.)

- Fuck off,

Signed, the bitch.

AN- well, you have to admit, a diary from Niou Masaharu is a very, very scary concept.

You know you're scared, admit it. Anyway, I love Niou. Besides Atobe, he's my favourite. And anybody reading this has to admit Niou's one of your guilty pleasures. As a head's up this is going to be multi-chaptered. This is going to have some major language (I mean come on. It's Niou.). Some chapters are going to be majorly offensive. Any chapters that have depressive triggers or horrible content will have warnings at the beginnings of the chapters. Read at your own risk. If you choose to read and ignore warnings, I will not be held responsible.

Though if you are brave enough to continue, please do.

Hope you like it. Love,

_Tainted Fated Demise _


	2. Painting By Numbers

Disclaimer: Don't own. Never will own. (Unfortunately. T_T)

WARNINGS: Major language. Talk of sexuality. Mentions of sex (nothing approaching graphic even if you reached out with a ten foot pole. Mentions are vague at best.) Minor mention of cutting.

My life has gone to shit.

Literally.

Two weeks ago was when I woke up in the hospital. After all my vitals were done and yadda, yadda, yadda…blah, blah, blah, so on and so forth, Yagyuu gave me the crappiest news I had ever received by far.

I had a rather serious disease, known to most of the world as…

Dun, dun, dunnnnnnnnnn…

Sorry…couldn't resist.

Anyway, I had a form of leukemia!

Yay, me. Thanks for finding the one way to fuck up my life even more God! Honestly, I was looking for something else to go wrong. I mean, there's no possible was that I might have a full load, could I? My life can't be that bad, right?

Wrong.

Since this is my diary, excuse me, my _journal _as my therapist would like me to call it (apparently it's supposed to make me feel more secure in my sexuality. Quite comfortable being bisexual people. It's not that strange.) he has also told me not only to write down my fucking feelings about every little thing that happens to me, I should write about my childhood as well.

Well if they wanted me to finally crack, I think that that works pretty damn well.

Hell, I'll go full on mental breakdown if they want me too.

Wouldn't want to disappoint.

My childhood, well I'm using that as a relative term. I never really had a childhood.

Let's see…

Never knew who my actual father was. Mother hated me, thought I was the devil's spawn (probably was too). My older sister never gave a shit, just so long as I stayed out of her crap, she stayed away from mine. My little brother always bothered me and I always told him to fuck off. I got beatings from my mother, death threats, the whole lot.

I drink a lot, mostly the hard stuff, you know what I'm talking about, the good vodka. Oh yeah, baby. I smoke, I cut, I do drugs sometimes, may have or may have not actually gone out and experimented with my sexuality on a first hand basis.

Well, I will tell you that the bigger the dick, the more fun.

Oh, and the bigger melons a girl has, the more they're into the harder stuff.

Huh, who knew, right?

So that was just my childhood. Some crazy shit definitely. I mean, it'll probably scar my therapist for life just reading the cliff notes, not to mention the affect it had on me.

You know, the one who actually lives in that shithole life.

Anyway, enough self-pity.

But isn't that what this is? Self-pity?

Wouldn't a real man just go and deal with his crap without having to go to a goddamn therapist? I mean, what the hell is the fucking point? My mother doesn't care as I've said before, my siblings have learned that my presence in the house is erratic at best, and the only few that I could say care a little bit would be my teammates.

That's probably only because they want to use me to help them win the nationals.

Except Hiroshi.

What other explanation is there? What sane person sits by a comatose person's beside for three weeks while said comatose person will possibly never wake up?

I still don't understand that.

And since I was truly stumped and apparently blind to the answer, I decided to ask my therapist. God knows why, but his degree in human interaction (the fuck, right?) kinda made me think he knew something about friendship, or whatever twisted relationship is.

When I asked at my next daily session, his answer was so simple.

So fucking stupid as hell too.

His answer was, "He probably actually cares about you Niou-san. Why does that seem so surprising?"

Well, have you even been reading this damn diary?

Because seriously, tell me if you aren't, because then I'll stop writing and it'll do us all a favour.

Let's get back to the present then, shall we?

Oh, but wait.

Forgot something, yeah it is fucking hard to believe. Since when has anybody fucking given a damn about Niou fucking Masaharu?

Yeah, you're right.

_Never. _

Guess what, I found God a few days ago.

I'm going to completely and totally change my ways and become a better person. I'm going to quite all my vices (the drinking, smoking, drugs, cutting, and sex) because my body is a temple and I shouldn't go and corrupt God's perfect image of me.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Like hell I did.

No, what really happened was that I had some jackass Christianized freaks who tried to shove their self-serving religion up my ass.

Seriously though people, get this _-cue the drumroll-_ I'm an atheist!

Yay!

I honestly couldn't care less about the big man upstairs (Santa Claus, right?) because when did he give a shit about me?

That's right, he doesn't.

Therefore, all that crap about he cares about and that he's always with you is just a bunch of made up bullshit. You are responsible for your own actions. It's a fact of life, suck it up and deal with it.

I'm sorry if I totally just mind-raped you, wait, no I'm not.

STOP BEING A GODDAMN PANSY AND GROW A DAMN SET OF BALLS!

There we go, I think that most of my rants out (though more may come later).

I might assume that did something for me. Took a load off of my shoulders or something like that psychobabble.

But somehow, it wasn't as satisfying as telling to the sons of bitches themselves.

Anyway, might as well move on to the main topic of this entry that my therapist wanted to get some insight on. Naturally, that might make me want to be the slightest bit difficult and completely avoid the topic altogether, but I think this time it might actually help me to get this one out.

I know, you're like you're not Niou! Who are you and what have you done with his body?

I assure you, this is not Invasion of The Body Snatchers (or the Pod People, or whoever the hell those people are-good movie though). I'm still Niou.

Last I checked, anyway.

Just kidding. But yeah, I've decided to write down my reaction to this utter bullshit, because if I said any more than I did at that moment (and I said an awful lot, mind you) I probably would've gotten myself expelled for harassment of a teacher/staff member or something.

Yesterday, my bitch of an English teacher was having us discuss some book, ah hah!

Sorry, just remembered the title. It was _Painting by Numbers _and it was actually a pretty decent book. Apparently the school system was using the book to bring up awareness on bullying or suicide rates or something like that.

The book was something about a brat named Seth who basically had a really shitty life.

Sounds familiar right?

Yeah, so he's some rich kid from the good side of the tracks, so everybody just thinks that his problems are incredibly superficial.

i.e. they don't exist in the puny little minds of society.

Which was wrong. Very wrong. This kid ended up with so much baggage from his mother and his father and his classmates, he did some drastic shit, mainly yell at a fucking teacher about something that sounded vaguely suicidal and he got shipped off to some pricey hospital asylum.

We haven't finished the book yet, so I couldn't tell you how it ends, but the story line sounds really familiar to me. If the ends going to go like I think it is…

Then it won't be pretty.

But like I said, I don't know yet.

Anyway, my teacher asked if anyone had gone through something similar to the situations in the book.

I raised my hand along with most of the rest of the class. Don't know why, but I assumed it would be interesting to see how far I could get down this line of questioning.

Next was do any of you have a father that left, or didn't acknowledge you in any way shape or form?

One third of the hands went down, mine was not among them.

Do any of you have a mother that truly ignores you and doesn't like you?

Most of the hands left went down, (there are about thirty-six people in my English class) my stayed up with about six others.

Have any of you tried alcohol?

One hand went down. Guess whose it wasn't.

Smoking?

Another one down.

Drugs?

Another two.

Sex?

Both of the other hands left went down, but mine was still raised. Poor little virgins.

Depression? Cutting? Other forms of self-harm? Homosexual feelings?

My hand still hadn't gone down.

"_Suicide?"_

It was funny at this point, she was obviously just trying to get me to put my hand down along with my devil may care grin, but hey I'm still being truthful and I wasn't the one who picked to participate in the activity in the first place.

"Complete social isolation from your peers?"

My grin faded completely and I felt my mouth press tightly into a thin line.

"Physical, emotional, mental and sexual abuse?"

Oh boy.

-Fuck off sincerely,

_Niou Masaharu_

AN: So, what did you think?

Personally I thought it was a bit depressing, but I like it overall. Though the thought that Niou actually went through all of that was painful to write about. Like I mentioned earlier, I love Niou, but this really does make for an interesting background.

Did it make anyone else want to cry just a little bit?

I know, me too.

Anyway, the book _Painting by Numbers_? Yeah, that's real and it's a very good book. If you ever have time and don't mind a bit of profanity and several rather, ah, inappropriate situations it's a really good read. It belongs to David Thyssen though, not me.

Oh how I can wish though, right?

Anyway, hope you enjoyed. If you did you know, my review button is right down there and it's feeling a bit unloved at the moment.

Hope you'll help it feel more loved, just like Niou.

Love,

_Tainted Fated Demise_


	3. Was my trust really worth that little?

Disclaimer: Don't own. Never will. Sorry.

WARNINGS: Major Language.

'Kay, remember last time when I was discussing my bitch of a ninth grade English teacher?

Where did we leave off, oh that's right.

"_Physical, emotional, mental and sexual abuse?"_

_Oh boy._

Ah, good times.

Anyway, when she said that, I froze with my hand still raised lazily in the air. I could have pulled it down easily, but at this point I really wasn't thinking rationally (have I done that before?). So I kept it up, for some god awful, stupid reason.

"You've got to be shitting me." Is all she said after I kept my hand up.

"What?" I asked stupidly back.

"You've got to be shitting me. I mean what I said, Niou-kun. I don't believe you." She replied, shaking her head slowly.

"Now you're shitting me, bitch." I snarled out of anger spurned by her disbelief, "It did all happen thank you very much."

"This is a new low even for you." She sighed.

"No, I'm used to being treated like shit, but this has got to be the worst. I mean hell, if the doctors are the one's asking me about where all the bruises and lacerations and broken bones came from, I'm pretty sure that I'm not the only one who saw the aftereffects.

"You probably did those to yourself." She muttered insincerely as she turned to face the board.

"You want to say that to my face you goddamn bitch." I growled angrily.

"Excuse me? You had better watch your tone young man." She said, starting to get extremely angry now.

"And I think you'd better watch yours." I agreed.

"Go to the Headmaster's office. Now!" She yelled when I didn't move.

I stood up, grabbed my things and left. No, I didn't go to the Headmaster's office. He definitely didn't expect me to actually show up anyway. If I did, I think the old man would have actually had a heart attack.

Instead, I headed towards that park where I'd ended up beaten half to death in the first place.

While I think about it, this is actually where my life got worse. I never would have found out about my CML (chronic myelogenous leukemia) and I wouldn't have been able to start chemo until it actually did kill me. Which reminds me, chemo starts tomorrow.

And I don't want to go.

I know, I know, call me crazy, not wanting to take the one opportunity to save my life. I'm stupid, right?

No, not really.

I just don't know if I really want to prolong this any longer. Looking at my track record, I'm lucky that I made it to be fifteen really. The odds definitely were against me. Maybe I just don't want to push my luck any further than I already have.

I am a trickster and have gotten out of really fucking sticky situations before. Maybe I just already used up all of my luck.

'God, you're pathetic.' I thought to myself, shaking my head to clear the really depressing self-pity session out of it.

I slipped my headphones into my ears and turned my ipod on full blast after fishing it out of my pocket.

'Fucking Perfect' by P!nk came on and I smiled to myself at the irony.

That song was all about how I don't give a shit what you bitches think and all that, but really all the girl wants is to be accepted by someone, by anyone really.

Just like me.

And I fell asleep on the swing, just like that.

_Made a wrong turn, once or twice _

_Dug my way out, blood and fire _

_Bad decisions, that's alright _

_Welcome to my silly life_

_Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood _

_Miss, no way it's all good, it didn't slow me down _

_Mistaken, always second guessing _

_Underestimated, look, I'm still around_

_Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel _

_Like you're less than, less than perfect _

_Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel _

_Like you're nothing you are perfect to me_

_You're so mean when you talk _

_About yourself, you are wrong _

_Change the voices in your head _

_Make them like you instead_

_So complicated, look how big you'll make it _

_Filled with so much hatred, such a tired game _

_It's enough, I've done all I can think of _

_Chased down all my demons, see you do the same_

_Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel _

_Like you're less than, less than perfect _

_Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel _

_Like you're nothing, you are perfect to me_

_The whole world stares while I swallow the fear _

_The only thing I should be drinking is an ice cold beer _

_So cool in lying and we tried, tried, tried _

_But we try too hard, it's a waste of my time_

_Done looking for the critics 'cause they're everywhere _

_They don't like my genes, they don't get my hair _

_Strange ourselves and we do it all the time _

_Why do we do that? Why do I do that? Why do I do that?_

_Ooh, pretty, pretty, pretty _

_Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel _

_Like you're less than, less than perfect _

_Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel _

_Like you're nothing, you are perfect to me _

_You are perfect to me_

_You're perfect, you're perfect to me _

_Pretty, pretty please if you ever, ever feel _

_Like you're less than, less than perfect _

_Pretty, pretty please if you ever, ever feel _

_Like you're nothing, you are perfect to me_

I woke up from a nightmare (fucking cancer is chasing me. I could never get away, only run and get caught. Then it snaps my neck and the blood drains from my body and I die).

Wow, even my own damn subconscious was basically telling to hurry up and go fucking die already.

Even I don't like me apparently.

Bet my therapist saw that coming.

(VOCAL THERAPY SESSION: 'COURSE YOU DID DUMBASS! IF YOU DIDN'T I'D WALK THE HELL OUT OF HERE AND NEVER COME BACK)

Excuse the interruption, folks.

Anyway, life's shit, my own body is trying to kill me in one of the slowest most painful ways it knows how, I'm trying to kill me. I guess it all just works out for the better for everyone isn't there.

Everybody's happy.

'Cept me, of course.

But I'll be dead.

…

Now I wanted to the end the damned diary (and it is a fucking diary, just accept it!) entry there, but the therapist said it had to be longer…

…

…

…

…

…

And…I have absolutely no more shit to talk about at the moment.

Nothing's going on with tennis (almost time for the prefec tournament training, but not quite), I'm dying (not new news), school's the same (shitty and boring and I still don't go to half of my classes), and my mates-

My mates.

Now that's a topic that just might be interesting.

Ever since I was diagnosed with cancer and all but fucking forced into accepting the chemo treatment, I had been ordered off of the courts until prefectural tournament training.

So basically, I've barely seen anybody

At all.

Ever.

Huh, and after all that fucking bullshit with their speeches on friendship and how we're all stronger together as one, as a perfectly united team, and how I should trust them all more, they go and abandon me to the wolves.

That'll teach me to trust anything those lying bastards say again.

But I never really did in the first place, did I? I was more forced into it than not. From the beginning, it was 'Niou you're not good enough for singles yet, but if you work hard in doubles you just might improve!'

'Niou, this is your new doubles partner. His name is Yagyuu Hiroshi.'

'It's a pleasure to meet you.'

'Hmmph. How about not?'

'Niou, your serve is too weak!'

'Niou, you're not trying!'

'Niou, hit the damn ball harder!'

'Niou, stop sitting on your ass and go help Yagyuu for once in your goddamn life!'

'Niou. Niou! NIOU!'

God! I'M SO FUCKING SICK OF IT!

I'm sorry, buchou that I'm not some scary ass, sadistic demon who likes to permanently damage people. I'll just make sure the other team lives through the match from doubles.

I should be able to pick my own damn partner, not have someone from the fucking golf club shoved onto my court.

Definitely not a pleasure.

It's not me. That's Yagyuu, struggling to improve.

I am trying. Yagyuu's the one that's waiting in the wings, hoping some random ass ball will come his way.

I can't hit the ball harder! If I do, I'll break my goddamn wrist! But that doesn't matter to you does it?

I'm not the one sitting on my ass, letting my partner take the fall though. Why can't I ever be the one to be trusted? They know by now that we switch our roles, so they should know who's who.

Or maybe they just don't want to.

I knew it.

I always did, but I chose to ignore my instincts and trust the lot of you despite my experience.

You would have always abandoned me.

The only question was when.

Now, I have my answer.

The only time you chose not to stay by my side constantly, was the time I needed you most. I've never needed anyone before, you probably thought, so he'll be fine now.

But what happens when someone so strong gets scared?

Glad to finally tell you to fuck off,

_Niou Masaharu_

AN: I'm mean aren't I. Poor Niou.

Nothing much to really say here I'm afraid, I hope you enjoyed your third look into the mind of Niou Masaharu. Don't be too afraid to come back for another serving!

Cheers!

Love,

_Tainted Fated Demise_


	4. My friend's little sister

WARNINGS: CURSING

I'm done.

I'm serious. I'm not playing you. I'm just done.

Done with what, you ask.

Every fucking thing.

I should probably elaborate because, you know, every fucking thing is kind of nonspecific. Well, it started on Saturday.

I was in my bedroom, tossing a tennis ball at the ceiling, when the call came. I didn't think much of it and answered it pretty lazily.

"Yeah?" I drawled.

"Niou?" Yagyuu said, sounding surprised.

"You called my phone, who did you expect to hear?" I asked.

"Sorry, I meant to call Akaya-kun. I'm supposed to be tutoring him later and I wanted to make sure that he didn't forget."

What?

"The fuck, Yagyuu?" I asked, trying to pretend that what he said didn't really hurt. 'Cause it didn't.

Seriously.

"I'm very sorry to disturb you Niou, goodbye." He replied instead of giving an actual answer.

"Wait!" I called out quickly, not really knowing what I wanted in the first place.

"Yes?" He asked quietly.

Damn, what to ask? I could ask why he left me to the goddamn wolves. I could ask where he was when I needed him this whole time. I could ask him why the fuck he left me to die by myself. Well, I could ask him a lot of things.

But I didn't.

Instead of asking something that I wanted, I asked, "When's the first prefec tournament practice?"

_Silence_

"Yagyuu?"

"It's Monday right after school."

"Thanks."

"Goodbye."

"Later."

Shit.

That could've gone so much better than it did. God, why am I such a fucking coward? I can't even ask my supposed best friend something simple.

Well, it makes sense I suppose.

I am just a fuck-up. A fuck-up that no one wants to be around apparently. All of this is there problem. If they can't handle the amazingness that is Niou Masaharu, then they can suck my dick.

But then, why is it that I can only ask myself what's wrong with me?

If I'm really as awesome as I supposedly think I am, why the hell am I the one sitting alone in my room? I should be the one out there corrupting the little devil bratling that is Akaya. I should be the one leaving a trail of broken hearts in their wake. I should be the one who's so self-confident that I can do anything.

I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't have cancer. I shouldn't be the one who's still wondering if he actually has friends.

Hell, I should be a lot of things and I shouldn't feel like a little piece of shit.

But I do.

And I can't change that.

Apparently, I think I'm just as worthless as the rest of my supposed friends.

Speaking of shit I can't change, according to my oncologist, my cancer has taken a turn for the worse.

Yeah.

Here's what happened then.

I strutted into the hospital (because I can never just _walk _) Saturday afternoon when my doctor almost ran into me as he was leaving a triage room.

"Oh, Niou-san! You're early!" He exclaimed, looking more than a little haggard.

"Am I? Didn't realize." I replied, checking my checkered wrist watch.

"Don't worry about it. It's no problem really." He said smiling, "Why don't you just go wait in my office for a few minutes. I have to finish up with a patient right now."

"S'cool." I said smoothly.

"Good. I'll see you in a few minutes." Then, he turned and hurried down to what I think was the MRI room.

"Well, that was fast." I muttered to no one in particular.

Wow.

Anyway, I headed towards his office, but while I was walking down the long, posh hallway of specialty offices, I heard someone crying.

Normally, I'd ignore this, but after what happened last time, I was just wondering what else I would find out about myself. So, I followed the sound and came to a room just off of the main hallway. The only person I could see inside of it was a little girl who couldn't have been more than six years old.

I leaned in to get a closer look, but accidentally brushed against the door so that it opened up a crack more.

Her head shot up immediately, "Who's there?"

I sighed, knowing that there was no easy way to get out of this one. "I'm here." I answered back quietly, not wanting to scare her. I walked into the room and her eyes widened so much that I almost began to laugh.

"You're not the doctor." She accused.

"And you have a penchant for stating the obvious." I retorted.

"And you're funny-looking." She said.

"Funny-looking?" I asked bewildered. Jesus fuck, who does this brat think she is?

"Yeah, you've gots a lot of white hair, but you can't be any older than my bwother. Are you twying to wook old?" She asked, trying to hide her snickers behind one of her hands.

"No." I sighed, irritably, "This is my natural hair colour."

"I don't bewieve you."

"Fine, then don't." I replied. God damn, this fucking kid was annoying.

And she also didn't appear to have anything wrong with her.

"What are you doing here, onii-chan?" She asked curiosity shining through.

Must be psychic. I was just about to ask her that.

"What are you doing here, gaki?" I asked just to be irritating.

"I asked you first." She giggled as if I just entered her into her own private joke.

"Well, then I guess I'd better answer then." I said, making a big show out of bowing and sighing just to please her. Why, I have no idea. "I'm here because my blood is very sick and I've got to see the doctor who can make it all better."

"Your blood's sick." She gasped, looking surprised at the possibility.

"Yup. It's real bad too, but it should definitely be getting better the sooner I see the doctor."

"Well then go see Mr. Doctor. You've gots to go make your blood feel better." She said, getting up off of the examination table and practically pushing me out of the door.

"Wait," I interjected just as I was standing outside her door, "You never told me why you were here."

"I'm here 'cause my brain's sick. Mr. Doctor and my bwother and my mummy and daddy are trying to make it feel better, but Mr. Doctor says it's going to stay sick until I die."

Shit, the gaki has brain cancer.

And it's going to kill her.

Just like mine.

I looked back down at her, just after she had said this and hated the look I saw on her face. It was one of resignation, a look I wear everyday as I contemplate everything that I've been through and am going through right now. No child should ever have to be so understanding of the world. They should be allowed to keep their precious innocence for just as long as they can.

But maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part.

"Bye, Mr. I hope that your Mr. Doctor can make your blood feel better." She said, as she began to close the door behind me.

"Bye." I whispered, shocked by what I had just discovered.

And I stood by what I said before, nobody that young should have to be that strong.

"I see you've met my sister." A quiet voice said from behind me.

I turned sharply, startled and was incredibly shaken by who I saw.

It was Renji.

"Renji?" I gasped.

"Yeah. She's sweet isn't she?" He asked, his normally emotionless voice, going very soft.

"Definitely." I agreed, unable to articulate anything else.

"Her name is Amaya." He said after a moment's hesitation.

"Amaya?" I said, testing the name out on my tounge, "It's a pretty name for a pretty little girl."

Renji looked at me out of the corner of his eye and I was worried that I had said something wrong for a second before he said, "Yes, it is, isn't it?"

"Renji, how come you've never told any of us about your sister." I asked quietly, still not quite trusting my voice.

He didn't answer for several long moments, just stared through the examination room window watching his sister dance around the room.

"Because I didn't want you to pity her."

He looked up suddenly and smiled, "And I think that's your cue to go." Then, he pointed something out behind me.

I turned and saw my doctor standing at the end of the corridor.

He turned and began to walk towards his office and I followed him slowly.

He began to speak and he told me everything about my leukemia that I didn't already know.

It's been confirmed as terminal.

I am absolutely, without a doubt…

_**going to die.**_

Goodbye,

_Niou Masaharu_

A/N: Hey, I'm so sorry it took so long to update. I am totally begging for your forgiveness right now. Everything's just been so crazy with school and marching band and an impromptu hospital visit and a field trip or two.

Yeah, my life is insane, but I love it.

I'm going to try (note, I said try) to get the next chapter up in the next few days.

Forgive me please!

_Tainted Fated Demise_


	5. Tennis Practice from Hell

WARNINGS:

…

It's been two days since my visit to the hospital.

Two days since I found out that one of my teammates little sister has brain cancer.

Two days since I figured out that there was no hope.

That I was going to die, no matter what happened. No matter what I did, nothing could change that. And it pisses me off beyond belief.

Not that I'd admit that out loud. This is why I'm hiding in a tree writing my in damn diary instead of in the locker rooms with the rest of the guys getting changed for practice. I'm scared.

And it scares me that I'm to the point where I can admit that.

More than anything, I don't want the rest of them to see how emaciated I look now. The chemotherapy treatments really are taking more out of me than I would care to admit. My skin is even whiter than my hair (which is already starting to fall out), I'm dropping weight by at least 2-3 pounds a day, and you can already count my ribs and my spinal vertebrae through my shirt.

God, I look like a fucking walking skeleton.

I look weak.

So I'm hiding because I don't want my friends to think I'm weak, even though they probably already do.

I glanced up at the clock through the leaves of my tree a second ago and saw that if I don't run my ass off, I'm going to be so late for practice that Yuki's going to kill me.

Shit.

I'll finish you after practice.

….

Now I'm just about ready to start bawling my own damn eyes out.

Practice was a disaster.

No, no, I hit every ball perfectly. Every single fucking one of them hit exactly where I wanted them to. No ball strayed from its intended course, none that shouldn't have been returned were returned, and there were no balls that I couldn't hit.

And it was so fucking wrong.

None of that was because of my skills at tennis.

It was all because they were treating me like a broken, little, sick brat!

How do they expect me to get anything done, anything accomplished, if they insist on babying me?!

I'M NOT FUCKING FRAGILE!

I told them that too. Well, not so much told them as screamed it in their faces, but either way I still got the message across.

And do you know what they said next?

"Whether you like it or not, Niou, you are."

Kuwahara told me that to my face.

The fuck?

"No I'm not. You lot know that more than any of the rest of the people I know. Why are you babying me all of a sudden?" I asked then my voice dropping down to little more than a whisper, rage building itself up inside of me.

"We're treating you gently because we don't want to see you hurt." Yagyuu interjected.

"You're hurting me by not playing me." I growled.

"Niou, if something so much as touches you in the wrong way, you could get internal bleeding from it. You could die from something that would only leave a small bruise on us, if that." Yuki replied calmly.

I was anything but calm.

"That's still no reason for you to treat me like I'm not capable of hitting the damn ball!"

"If we can stand between you and a hospital visit, or even your death," Yuki seethed, "We will, no matter what the cost."

They just didn't understand any of the shit going on.

"I'm dying anyway!" I screamed, my frustration finally exploding out of me in one big burst.

All was silent for a few moments. The only one who didn't look confused out of his own damn mind was Renji and that was because he had been at the hospital the day I found out the news.

I instantly regretted what I just said, but I made no move to do damage control. If they wanted to not let me play right while I had cancer, I was just as curious to see if they kicked me off the team completely if they knew that I was dying.

"You have cancer, of course you're dying, but you're going to get better aren't you?" Akaya asked, sadness lacing his voice.

I froze at that, all of my anger melted away. I stared at Aka-chan and tried to comprehend what he had just said.

When my wits finally came back to me, the only thing I could think to say was, "No, Akaya. Not this time." I gulped, this really was a conversation that I didn't want to have, "This time I can't get better.

"But you have too. You're Niou-senpai." He pouted, not quite following what I was saying.

"Not even I can get out of this one, buddy. I'm sorry." I apologized even though I was the one dying, not him. Funny how I could handle the news fairly well (if nearly having a nervous breakdown and killing yourself right then and there, well), but my team stood in front of me with their legs shaking and tears gathering in the corners of their eyes, threatening to fall.

Renji was the first one to recover, well to be honest, the only one too.

"When's your next chemo appointment." He asked.

"Tomorrow."

"Public or private."

"Public."

"Do you mind if Amaya comes and visits you?" He asked quietly.

I jerked my head up in shock, "Amaya?"

"She's been begging me to see you ever since she found out exactly who you were. She wants to meet her white-haired-not-Mr.-Doctor again." Renji chuckled.

"Yeah, she really was adamant about that wasn't she?" I said, finding my voice and laughing along with him.

"Amaya kept arguing that white was a hair colour that only old people were allowed and that seeing as you swore to her that you weren't old, you had to have dyed it."

"Hmm." I hummed, pleased that she remembered me, when I had barely tried to make an impression.

"So, can she? She has her appointment tomorrow too, so she'll be there anyway."

"Absolutely." I smiled, "I'd love to have the support."

"Sorry to interrupt." Marui…well, interrupted, "but who is Amaya?"

I glanced sharply at Renji. This really wasn't my secret to tell, but if he gave me permission I would tell the team for him.

He shook his head ever so slightly. No.

"Sorry. I'm not allowed to say." I answered Marui, "I'm under explicit orders not to."

"Why?" Akaya asked.

"It's not my secret to tell." I replied.

"Then who's is it?" Jackal asked.

"Mine." Renji answered after a moment of awkward silence.

Every head turned towards him immediately. Apparently every single fucking one of them was too dense to figure out the correct implication behind those words.

"The hell?" Marui asked after a moment of even more confused silence.

"Amaya is my little sister." He said strongly and without the hesitation that I thought would be there for sure.

"You have a sister?" Yuki stretched, obviously surprised.

"Yes and she has brain cancer." He said sadly.

Everyone was shocked at that, but no more surprised as they looked when I told them my cancer was terminal a few minutes ago.

Anyway, back to the present.

Like I was sitting in the tree at school earlier, now I've migrated to the roof of my house, where I am avoiding my mother. As per usual, she's drunk of her ass, angry as fuck and too lazy to do anything about it except for bitch at me about my medical expenses.

Apparently she can't even manage to feel a little sorry for her son, even when he's going to die sometime in the near future. Hey, at least she's been off of the heroin for a couple months. If she was still shooting that up, I'd probably be back in the hospital right now (and I couldn't even blame the cancer) with several broken bones, lacerations and maybe even a few missing teeth.

At least her jackass of an abusive boyfriend (to my older sister and me just as much as he is to the old hag) wasn't hanging around on the couch.

Honestly, he's just about as thrilled as mom is that my medical bills are cutting into their drinking/drug funds. Because god knows that their dirty little habits are much more important than my life.

(Not that I'd argue that fact very much, but if I said that to the right people, I'd get slapped)

Ah, the joys of growing up in a broken household where love is a taboo and has never existed.

At least my little bro's dad has stuck around for the past couple of years providing money for him, me, and our sister to at least eat. If it wasn't for his oh-so-kind heart, we'd have all starved by now.

Not that I'm complaining, I'm very thankful for everything that he's given us.

I just wish it had all come from my mum and dad.

Is that really too much to have asked for?

Later losers,

_Niou Masaharu_

…

A/N: That actually turned out to be a better chapter than I thought it was going to be. I probably only wrote it this easily because my brain was fried from my chemistry homework though.

Damn, that stuff is better than drugs.

Anyway, thanks for reading.

With lots of love,

_Tainted Fated Demise_


	6. Hospital Visit

Warnings: Language

~X~

So last time, I think we got through the mummy and daddy issues.

Now that that's out of the way, I think that we can move one. Mainly to my first cancer-related visit to the hospital, that's not a treatment appointment.

~X~

At this point, we're about four to five days after my very own tennis practice from hell.

And like all good stories that include pain and suffering, it all started in physics.

I was sitting at my desk, staring out the window. I wasn't slacking though because I had already finished all of the assignments through the next month and a half. Plus, the teacher has long since learned that you just don't question me when it comes to science and mathematics.

Yeah, people are still talking about the peanut, the microwave and the silly putty.

Ah, good memories.

Anyway, I was daydreaming, not really following anything that was going on, when I started to cough. It started out innocently enough. Then a minute or so later, I started coughing again a little harder.

Honestly, I only really noticed this was out of the ordinary when my teacher started giving me a death glare, probably for interrupting. I tried to silence my coughs, but they kept coming harder and harder. The teacher just began to ignore me for the moment.

Soon, I couldn't catch my breath in between coughing sessions. My head began to pound as the coughs reached their peak. They sounded raspy and painful and wet.

I began to get really dizzy and I barely registered the teacher crouching down next to me. When did he get there?

The last thing I saw before everything went black was red covering my hand and dripping on the floor.

~X~

I regained consciousness while I was being wheeled into the hospital.

"…Fifteen year old boy…"

The first thing I tried to figure out was what happened to physics.

"…Coughing up blood…"

Then, I tried to figure out just where the hell I was.

"…Unconscious upon paramedic's arrival…"

Unfortunately, pain decided to register with my brain at that moment.

"…Leukemia…"

Oh shit.

"…Losing him…"

Breathing got really hard all of a sudden.

"…Get me life support…"

I could hear my heart struggling along in my chest.

"…Don't give up…"

But I wanted too. Badly. The pain was becoming too much.

"…C'mon kid…You can survive this…"

Something in his voice made me want to stop the pain, but in a much different way.

"…Live…"

And so I fought.

~X~

I honestly didn't realize that I had blacked out again until I 'woke' up in a hospital bed.

I couldn't help but try to sit up. I mean, that's like the first thing anyone tries when they find themselves in the hospital. But I quickly fell back down when pain shot through my chest and head.

Damn, that hurt like a bitch.

"I wouldn't do that, Niou." Someone said from the doorway.

"Obviously, dipshit. You the doctor?" I asked suspiciously glaring at the man. He was about 6'5", 6'6". Shaggy brown hair down to just above his shoulders. Piercing brown eyes that gave off the impression that he knew everything. But even with that, his face was kind and open.

And a little bit handsome.

Not that I'm truly gay or anything.

Moving on.

"Yeah. You scared us all quite a bit." He said, throwing a cocky-ass smirk in my direction, "We were scared that you were really going to die."

Well, it certainly would have put me out of my misery.

Not that I told him that of course. Wouldn't want to risk my last few months in hell in an adolescent psych ward.

So I said, "Would it honestly have mattered?"

I nearly jumped at the intensity of emotion that suddenly shot onto his face. The only one I could identify though was anger.

"Of course it would have." He growled, "Your life is worth too much to throw away on a whim."

Like hell.

"Like hell it is." I growled right back.

"You shut up you ungrateful little dick." He said, getting all in my face to make sure that I heard him clearly, "Get some meaning, or let your cancer kill you. I could honestly not give a shit either way. The only thing that matters is what you want. Are you going to throw it all away for nothing?" Then, he turned sharply on his heel and stormed out of the room.

And all I could think was, well, that could've gone better.

But that wasn't it. Not really anyway.

His words hit me hard. Everything I've done since I figured out I had cancer was, what exactly? That's right, nothing.

I've sat about whining about every damn thing that's happened. I've never once thought about the people going through the same thing; whether they were better off or worse off than I was. I haven't tried to get back together with my old friends or even my not so good ones from Hyoutei or Seigaku (even though they really aren't friends at all).

That actually made me feel worse than when I found out that I had cancer. It felt like a strong punch to the gut.

And I hated it.

That bastard had no damn right to be so fucking accurate. So what if I want to waste the rest of my pitiful life. As long as I'm still breathing, it's still my choice. As long as I'm still struggling, I get to pick my own fights.

So why does it hurt so much?

I've always been a fighter. Since the beginning, when I used to get picked on by the bullies in elementary school, I fought back even knowing I probably wasn't going to win. I always tried to make everything right. Always.

And now, I've just resigned myself to dying of cancer. God, I'm not even trying to live!

When did I change?

When did life start to mean nothing?

When did everything start to go so horribly wrong?

Honestly, I just can't find the answers to anything anymore. Now I do know one thing, though.

I WANT to live. I don't want to die at all. I'm going to try to work through all of this shit. I'm going to start talking to my friends again. I'm going to go to nationals with my team. I'm going to win.

I'm going to fight.

Sincerely,

_Niou Masaharu_

~X~

A/N: I think I like this chapter a lot more than the others. Niou finally got his balls back it seems. Hope you all are just as excited to see where Niou goes from here, as I am.

Hope you liked.

Love,

_Tainted Fated Demise_


	7. Marui's Observations

READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ 

WARNING: Kind of depressing, well, really depressing. This one as per my changes and by request of one of my more constructing reviewers, Lissie Lupin, has some more diamond sided switches. It's going to be different because this is going to be from the other chapters because it's going to be from the rest of the Rikkai boy's perspectives. Actually, I think I'm going to give each of the Rikkai guy's chapters and see how that goes. Anyway, we'll see.

I'm really hoping that this turns out okay, so leave reviews or pm me about what you liked and didn't like. Thank you.

~X~

_MARUI BUNTA_

Well, this was Yukimura's idea. Niou is being forced to write in a journal to help him sort his feelings and to help him cope with his cancer.

Even though he's really not coping. And the journal really doesn't seem to be helping.

Honestly, I miss Niou and I know that he would make fun of me endlessly for it if he ever read this, but I do. He hasn't been himself lately. I mean, the day before he got into that stupid fight, he was still switching my shampoo with bleach (I ended up with white hair for a month) and teasing Sanada-fukubuchou to try to get him to flinch (and even sometimes succeeding).

Now he seems, god what's the word, subdued. He doesn't laugh, or joke, or tease, or bully Kirihara, or even pretend to bother with his classwork.

It's really starting to scare me.

What's even worse than that though is that he's starting to lose his skills. He's slowing down and not reaching balls when he should be able to and he doesn't seem to be able to pick up on the small things as easily anymore.

Who the hell am I kidding, this all fucking terrifies me. It reminds me that anything could happen at any time. To you or to anyone you care about.

Which brings me to talk about what happened today in first period.

We had a test today in our British Literature class. It wasn't the hardest test in the world, but it really wasn't easy either. It took me about fifty minutes to finish.

Niou finished in about ten minutes.

Our teacher was pissed to say the least. She was convinced that Niou had cheated and that he would have not gotten a hundred because he deliberately missed some answers to show that he wasn't cheating, a bunch of shit like that.

Kimura-san was even threatening to call the principal and get Niou suspended because she was tired of being constantly disrespected and not being taken seriously. She really didn't seem to understand that under Niou's jackass exterior, he's really smart and really not that bad.

Well, even I have to admit that there's a lot of jackass. But still, it's completely worth it to force your way down through it.

Anyway, the weird thing about this part of the incident was that Niou just sat there and took it. He didn't say a word, didn't roll his eyes, and didn't mouth profanity at the teacher when he wasn't looking. He looked for all the world like a little porcelain doll (not words that I would normally imagine using describing Niou, but really, he looks really pale and really sick from the chemo and combine that with white hair and well, you get a porcelain doll).

To tell the truth, Niou didn't even look like his mind was in the room when all of this was going on. Just, he had a really faraway look to his eyes and it was almost like one of those mini-seizures, the ones where the person just blanks out but doesn't start full on convulsing.

A few seconds later though, he seemed to snap back to reality with a jolt. Suddenly, he just shot up straight in his chair and looked terrified like he didn't know what was going on. It took me a minute to realized that this probably a symptom of his cancer.

No wonder he was so scared.

Scared the crap out of the teacher too though. She started freaking out as asking what the hell was going on and eventually the math teacher from next door came in to see what was going on and he practically dragged her out of the room and took her to the principal's office to get the entire situation sorted.

Niou seemed to sort everything out in his own head while the whole commotion was going on though, thankfully. He still looked out of it, but you could tell he was back in his own head.

Now I guess I should write down about the drastic change from this morning to this afternoon at tennis practice.

Well, he was spacy in class, but so incredibly focused in our practice match together.

He hadn't gotten to play a lot since the diagnosis, but even Yukimura had to admit that since we had prefec coming up, he needed some court time. So Yagyuu and Niou were paired up with me and Jackal for a match. From the start, you could tell he was trying to win, but not the tennis game.

He was trying to beat himself. Trying to fix every little thing that was going wrong with _him. _His whole profiling personality was being directed at his movements, his habits, his thoughts. He wasn't watching me or Jackal at all and that really scared me too.

Normally I could always count on him to make me feel slightly uncomfortable during a tennis game with his offhanded comments about my game. Now I could barely keep my eyes off of him muttering to himself about all of the little mistakes he's making.

I really didn't like the change in Niou. It was just too drastic. He had mentioned something about trying to actually fight the cancer instead of giving up like a coward, but it seems to be stealing all the life out of him instead of helping him fell slightly better about what's going on.

I feel like it's making him die a little faster. I don't know. Maybe it's just me.

But honestly I don't think that it is.

I'll just have to talk to Niou about it. Well, if I can get him to stop lying and give me a straight answer. Haha, I know right, but it's worth a shot.

He is a good friend after all.

And I have no idea how to end this entry thingy so I'll just say this.

_Later,_

_Bunta_

~X~

A/N: Jesus guys, sorry that took so long. I was on vacation up in New Jersey for fall break and I couldn't find a place that had wifi. I mean, even the hotels didn't have wifi. What the hell's up with that?

But yeah, just got back about two hours ago. I took a long shower and wrote this just for you guys. It's not much and it's not really good, but I hope you all enjoy it anyway.

Thanks!

_Love,_

_Tainted Fated Demise_


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